Who Hates Heat?
by hmego
Summary: Who hates Heat? Well, if you know my writing you'd probably know who. ^^;; Oh, and only *counts* five BAM/G(2) characters show up in here. Can ya guess who?


Who Hates Heat?  
by Hazirah M.  
FIRST: 03112000  
LAST: 04112000  
Published on [fanfiction.net][1]: July 2001 

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"You're obnoxious!" Frida yelled at Heat.   
"You're boring!" Heat yelled back at Frida.   
"You're arrogant!"   
"You're slutty!"   
"You're stupid!"   
"You're too sensitive!"   
Frida didn't answer, in fact she sat down cross-legged on the floor to think about it. "That's not much of an insult, you know," she said to Heat.   
Heat crossed his arms. "I couldn't think of anything to say."   
"For once."   
"Was that an insult, then?"   
"Hell, it was!"   
Heat stepped toward Frida as a flame slowly materialized in his hand. "What was it you said about Hell?"   
Frida got up from the floor and said, "That's what it's like to have to be around you."   
"I've had worse insults than that," said Heat, unimpressed. The flame in his hand quickly demolished.   
"Well, that's how I feel," Frida snapped.   
In the next room, which was the kitchen where Comet and Shorty liked to hang out, the both of them were sharing sly smiles about the argument over some sandwiches. Gas-O, somehow able to devour a sandwich without showing his face, quietly ate and listened to everything that was said.   
"So what's the secret between those two, anyway?" asked Shorty, hearing someone - she couldn't tell who - yell, "Look what you did to my pants, you _[snip! - Author]_!"   
"Not much of a secret anymore, I have to say," Comet replied, who had taken the pleasure in telling everyone. "They went out, then something happened, and now they hate each other."   
"Explain," said Gas-O, who had been speaking in one-word sentences the whole afternoon. (It is amazing, I say, how jail has not kept the boy from appearing in our fanfics.)   
Comet leaned forward and whispered across the table to Gas-O, "Even I don't know what happened, and Frida tells me everything!"   
"Doesn't she tell you how to take care of laundry?" Shorty replied, gesturing to a lone sock next to the fridge.   
"I figured it was her turn this month."   
"Explain," Gas-O persisted, referring to Heat and Frida.   
"Well..." Comet leaned back in her chair with a thoughtful look on her face, as if the mystery of what happened between Frida and Heat had happened decades ago, as if she were an old woman telling her grandchildren how she once shocked the pants off of all her male classmates in school by wearing a skirt that was too short even for the boldest woman teacher in school (which she had done, and had immediately earned the respect and admiration of many in her school... who were not at all teachers).   
"Well," said Comet again, taking a sandwich from the plate. "I remember Frida and Heat went out for a few nights, but after that she kept getting phone calls from Heat in which she always yelled and cursed and said words that Daddy said she could not have learnt at home." Comet paused to bite from her sandwich. "That was before Bust A Move, I don't know how they knew each other then, but when they saw each other at the Bust A Move competition, they didn't hit it off and after it was over Frida told me never to fall for an ex-racer who was obsessed with Fire and called himself 'Fireboy'."   
"Uh-huh." Shorty took her fourth sandwich from the plate. "What happened next?"   
Comet shrugged. "Nothing much. I joined Bust A Move the following year while Frida was being committed to her art..."   
Gas-O burst out laughing at the thought of Frida with a painting for a boyfriend.   
"... And I met Heat and although I thought he was cute, he wasn't all that great, and later we became involved in all our post-BAM activities and Frida told me more and more about how much she hated Heat..."   
Comet shrugged as she ended her story. "There's not much to talk about, other than that."   
Think about how much Comet's said and you'll get the joke.   
The trio ceased talking as they heard the sound of a wolf chasing a protesting Heat around the next room.   
Gas-O, finally compelled by boredom to speak normally, said, "Man, don't they ever stop? It's getting on my nerves." He jumped off his chair and 'busted a move' on Comet's kitchen floor, not even showing off but trying to bust his frustration of Frida and Heat's constant arguing.   
With a giggle, Comet got up and reached behind the fridge to get out her new flashy blue roller blades. She put them on and started roller blading around the room. "Frida banned them ever since I bladed over her toes!" she yelled at Shorty before she noticed she was heading straight for the wall! Comet quickly steered herself away, and Shorty, thinking about Comet's words, envisioned Frida's feet, which had been bandaged during the first Bust A Move competition.   
Shorty, suddenly feeling left out, got up and performed some of her old 'Candy Hip Hop' moves.   
What a sight it was for Frida and Heat, who stopped arguing to take a 'sandwich & lemonade' break, to see Comet roller blading around the kitchen (Frida gazed uneasily at her feet, which were recently bandaged from the week before), Gas-O spinning around on his back on the kitchen floor and Shorty running around in circles shouting "Wheee!"   
Heat listened for music that they could possibly be dancing to, while Frida, already imagining what had happened, leaned against a wall and watched with a bored expression on her face.   
Comet was the first to notice the two and immediately stopped roller blading (nearly crashing into the kitchen table).   
"So, are you done?" she said as she unstrapped her roller blades (glancing guiltily at Frida's feet).   
Frida, eyeing the roller blades with much contempt, nodded and said, "We got tired."   
Comet grinned at her sister, and Frida suddenly realized what she had just said. She coughed and pushed Heat to the floor. Heat, totally clueless, got up and yet another flame was materializing in his hand. Frida pointed to Comet. "Tell her what we were just doing before we came out here."   
"We were killing each other," Heat replied as the flame in his hand disappointedly (no, really) disappeared as if it had been extinguished.   
"Come on," said Comet, crossing her arms at the lame (she thought) excuse.   
Heat gazed down at his pants, which had paint stains and had also been torn by Frida's wolf. Comet noticed his skin in an after-fighting-with-Frida's-wolf condition. She remembered her own experiences with this and nodded understandingly. "I believe you," she said.   
Frida stuck out her tongue at Heat. "I hate him, anyway, what's so difficult to understand about that?"   
Heat, being the mature young man he was, replied, "_[snip! - Author]_."   
And there really is nothing to this story except that in my view Frida and Heat are nothing more than friends (well, yes, actually, that is, they are enemies). It's just my view and if you hate it, you can just click on 'Back' on your browser, but you will miss the rest of this story.   
Frida turned to the kitchen table and quickly grabbed the last sandwich. "Make your own sandwich, meatball," Frida said to Heat between mouthfuls. 'Meatball' was Frida's latest 'insulting' name.   
Heat, insulted, took a step forward at which his shoe landed on Frida's foot.   
"OWWWWWWWWW!" Frida, still with the sandwich in her mouth, started jumping on her unstepped foot while she held onto her stepped foot.   
"Aaaaah." Heat relaxed into a chair, glad to have gotten back at Frida. It wasn't much of a revenge, but to Frida it was because everything seemed to happen to her feet. First Comet roller blading over her toes, now Heat stepping on her feet.   
Gas-O and Shorty watched Frida, amazed. Comet, who had witnessed this scene dozens of times in her life, went to make more sandwiches. On the way to the cupboard, she found the First Aid Kit. "Yo, Heat, catch!" she said, throwing it over to him.   
Heat caught it, and with a sadistic smile on his face, dropped the First Aid Kit onto Frida's other foot.   
"Damn you!" cried Frida, falling to her feet.   
"Ah, my subject, bow to me," said Heat grandly.   
Frida clutched her feet and moaned. Glaring at Heat, she took the First Aid Kit and crawled with it all the way into the other room.   
Heat laughed and then he rubbed his hands greedily. "More sandwiches, Comet?" he said.   
"I'm still makin' some!" Comet yelled back, even though Heat was in the same room.   
Heat covered his ears. "_[snip! - Author]_," he mumbled.   
"Hard way to live, eh, Fireboy?" said Gas-O with a grin behind his mask.   
"You don't know the half of it," Heat replied as he laid back in the chair in a cool way and tugged Shorty's hair.   
"Bastard," Shorty growled. Then she grinned and looked up. "Yatta!" And a huge cake fell on Heat.   
Gas-O thought about Heat's words. "Well, you've never been to jail," he muttered.   
"Who said Comet was the only one with magical powers?" said Heat, happily eating cake.   
Shorty sighed. "It didn't go away that time," she said disappointedly. Then she brightened up and ate some of the cake as well. Gas-O joined in.   
Comet returned with a plate of sandwiches. "Eat up," she said, breaking off a piece of cake for herself.   
Heat took one of the sandwiches and smeared some of the cake on it. "Comet," he said, with his mouth full of the cake-sandwich combination. "You need to teach your sister some manners."   
"Look who's talking," Shorty said, who was also talking with her mouth full.   
Gas-O chuckled and mysteriously ate a sandwich without showing his face.   
"Save some for me," pleaded Frida as she made her way into the kitchen. Her feet were thickly bandaged.   
"Make some lemonade first," Heat said, shielding the sandwiches.   
"Oh, all right," muttered Frida, not wanting any more layers of bandages on her feet. On the way she took some of Shorty's cake.   
When Frida had made the lemonade and all were sitting down at the table enjoying the food, Heat spoke.   
"Not bad lemonade," he said. He sipped more of the lemonade then said, "Could use more sugar, though."   
Frida moaned and laid her head on the table. "I have no energy to argue anymore."   
"Ah," said Heat, pleased. He munched on a sandwich. "You're still boring, though."   
"And you're conceited," Frida mumbled.   
"You're slutty."   
"You're obnoxious."   
"You're a _[snip! - Author]_."   
"You're a _[snip! - Author]_."   
"You're fat."   
"You're a damn bastard."   
"You're short." Heat made himself look taller.   
"Duh."   
"Heat?" said Shorty.   
"Yes?"   
Shorty kicked him from under the table. "I hate you too."   
Well, I guess Frida's not the only one who hates Heat. 

~~ THE END ~~ 

P.S. It continues with more arguments, but I think you've had enough. 

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TITLE: Who Hates Heat?  
FOUND AT: [http://www.angelfire.com/ego/saya238/argue/whh.txt][2]  
AUTHOR: Hazirah M.  
E-MAIL: [hazirah@hotmail.com][3]

   [1]: http://www.fanfiction.net/
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/ego/saya238/argue/whh.txt
   [3]: mailto:hazirah@hotmail.com



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